


Promises, Promises

by INMH



Series: Merry Month of Masturbation Fills (2016) [12]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Crack, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Humor, I REGRET NOTHING, I'm Going to Hell, Inappropriate use of a Lightsaber, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Other, Poor Life Choices, Strong Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-08 00:31:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6831646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INMH/pseuds/INMH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crack, but… It’s treated way more seriously than it should be. In which Kylo Ren realizes that maybe he needs to watch what he says during sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises, Promises

**Author's Note:**

> I WILL NOT APOLOGIZE FOR COMEDY.

  
Kylo Ren looked down at his lightsaber and thought, _How did I get here?_  
  
The answer was simple enough, because it was the same answer for just about every question as to how he ended up in trouble: He opened his damn mouth.  
  
A fact about Kylo Ren that is, blessedly, unknown to everyone except for a particular dark-haired scavenger girl, is that he possesses a strange compulsion towards dirty-talk once he’s achieved a certain level of arousal.  
  
Dirty talk that, as it happens, can become quite strange under the correct circumstances.  
  
He didn’t know why he did it. Maybe it was some strange quirk of his personality, or maybe it was genetic. This wasn’t something one could bring up with their parents under… Any circumstances, really.  
  
It went like this:  
  
Rey had been topping. And that meant that, in a display of submissiveness that most thought would be entirely foreign to Kylo Ren, she was (so to speak) balls deep in his ass with the strap-on that he had come to favor.  
  
Now, they had noticed by this point that some of the worst (or best, as it were, since Rey found some of it intensely amusing) dirty-talking happened to come in the moments where Kylo was getting his ass-pounded. Rey had a number of theories as to why this was the case, most of which she only went into with any depth once she’d imbibed a fair amount of alcohol. The most popular of which was that Kylo Ren got off on being under someone else’s control as much as he got off on having control over others.  
  
When morning came, he didn’t actually _remember_ what it was he had said in the heat of the moment. He said a lot of things when he was aroused, most of which he had all but threatened Rey never to repeat to anyone beyond themselves.  
  
Rey was grinning at him. That was the first red flag.  
  
Kylo Ren almost hoped that it meant that there was going to be early morning sex, which was almost as good as marathon sex (which could last any amount of time) and slightly better than shower sex (which provided too many opportunities to end up with embarrassing injuries) but then realized that there was a very particular… _Way_ that Rey was grinning. One had to know her to get the full effect, the understanding that this was a grin that was coming at your personal expense.  
  
“What’s so funny?” He asked.  
  
Rey did not answer. Her grin widened ever so slightly.  
  
That was red flag number two.  
  
He ran a hand through his hair and tried to keep the concern from his voice. “What, did you have a dream that you were actually proficient with a lightsaber?”  
  
Rey’s grin did not fade.  
  
And then she started to laugh.  
  
That was the last and biggest red flag.  
  
Because Rey did not laugh like that unless he was about to suffer.  
  
“What?” He snapped, the dread seeping in.  
  
Rey leveled her gaze on him as the laughter subsided. “Do you recall last night?”  
  
Kylo sniffed and shifted his lower body a little. “Vividly.”  
  
“Not that. What you _said._ ”  
  
Oh, he was well and truly fucked. And not in the fun way.  
  
“Said?”  
  
She nodded, smile a thing of diabolical beauty- one he would appreciate if it weren’t currently directed at him. “You said that you were, and I quote, ‘going to shove an entire lightsaber up your ass’.”  
  
The delicacy, the deliberateness with which she said those words, all of which were colored by barely-contained amusement, told him that he was in an untold amount of trouble.  
  
Which brings us to the current moment: Kylo Ren, with a lightsaber in his hands and a very definitive feeling that he was about to shame his family, his name, his order, and just about every living creature in the galaxy.  
  
It occurred to him that, really, he was reaping what he’d sown. Being trapped on a sand-world with no actual parental figures for most of her life meant that Rey’s sexual knowledge was incredibly limited, and he had been terribly eager to introduce her to all the things that she had missed.  
  
Now, now he saw that he’d created a fucking monster.  
  
“You’re doing it,” Rey giggled, clutching her hands over her heart and tipping to the side with mirth. “You’re actually doing it!”  
  
“Of course I am. I can never say no to you.”  
  
If only he _could_ , he might avoid things like this. This, and the Tauntaun in the Butter Cream incident. Which they didn’t talk about. Ever.  
  
_Grandfather, Master Kenobi, any other Jedi who happen to be watching this- I am **so** sorry. I swear that I will conduct myself in a more dignified fashion in the future. I will ignore the prodding of a particular woman with whom I am romantically involved. I-_  
  
“Are you apologizing to our ancestors again? Just get on with it!”  
  
He added a final apology to Master Kenobi for turning his granddaughter into a deviant, and then grimaced as he looked down at the lightsaber.  
  
Well. In fairness, it wasn’t as though it was the biggest thing he’d ever had in his ass.  
  
“You understand, of course, that I can’t possibly shove the entire thing up my ass?”  
  
Rey rolled her eyes. “Of course not. I don’t want you to fry yourself from the inside out. Do you think I want you dead?”  
  
“Yes,” He responded flatly.  
  
All he got was a flat look in response. Maybe it would be best to just get this done and over with.  
  
Of course it was not technically the lightsaber that he gradually began to feed into himself, but rather the hilt; there was, of course, the concern about being fried from the inside-out to take into consideration, as well as the fact that this was his lightsaber, and that meant that he had to additional pieces of metal jutting from the hilt right before the blade itself.  
  
It didn’t feel too terrible, really; he _had_ had bigger things in his ass before. Most of what he felt was the simple-but-expected discomfort one derives from shoving the hilt of a weapon into an orifice it was not meant for. Admittedly, the only real pain he felt was the continued mental anguish at the knowledge that his actions were bringing shame to himself, his ancestors, the entire Jedi and Sith orders, and everyone within a ten-mile radius.  
  
“Doing alright?”  
  
“Physically, yes. You already know the depths of my shame.”  
  
Rey didn’t seem to be getting anything out of this sexually. She wasn’t touching herself, didn’t show any particular signs of arousal. Maybe that hadn’t been her intention in the first place, or maybe any hopes of sexual pleasure went out the window once he’d begun and she fully realized the absurdity of this endeavor. Maybe she was just deriving a great deal of mental pleasure from his mental suffering.  
  
Kylo Ren didn’t know whether to find that comforting, or regret the fact that his influence had so clearly corrupted her and now it was coming back to bite him in the ass.  
  
Literally.  
  
As it happened, the mental agony of this exercise did very little to prevent arousal from setting in, and pretty soon Kylo Ren was breathing heavily like the slut he tended to become when he had something this big in his ass.  
  
“Do you want some help?”  
  
“No, Rey, I do not want help,” He grunted, feeling climax approaching and wanting to get this over with before he started to enjoy it too much. In his communions with the Force and their respective ancestors, he could only write this off as “Rey made me do it” if he didn’t draw it out.  
  
However good it felt to have the blunt end of the hilt ramming up against his prostate.  
  
Repeatedly.  
  
Good enough that when he came, he may have growled some incredibly sacrilegious about a few other things he might want to do with his lightsaber, one of which might have involved testing his gag reflex.  
  
Rey immediately started laughing.  
  
_I have a very serious problem._  
  
Kylo Ren dropped his face into the pillow, panting.  
  
“My grandfather is looking down on me right now and weeping.”  
  
“Serves him right. Pervert.”  
  
-End

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, we’re done here, I need to go douse myself in holy water and have a long talk with a priest about where I’m probably going when I die.


End file.
